Making the Case AU
by Flagg1991
Summary: After Lincoln posts an embarrassing video of his sisters, they get mad and give him the silent treatment, but a chance encounter with Clyde leads them to help their little bro in his bid to win the fifth grade video contest Oneshot. [Commission]


"Your sisters are going to flip," Clyde said.

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "They're not even going to see it."

They were walking along the sidewalk trimming Franklin Avenue on a bright late spring afternoon. A warm breeze redolent of flowers and honeysuckle slipped through the budding trees and big, puffy clouds sailed across the sky like phantom galleons on a sea of forever. Clyde thrust his thumbs through the straps of his backpack and favored his tennis shoes with an uneasy expression. "I don't know," he worried, "I think maybe we made a mistake."

1216 appeared ahead on the right, its peaked roof rising up from behind the leafy boughs of the oak tree commanding the front yard like the prow of a ship. Vanzilla stood in the cracked and oil-splotched driveway, its seafoam green body glinting in the light of the sun. Mom and Dad were on a week-long anniversary vacation and Lori was in charge of things while they were away, including dad's beloved first car.

Lincoln doubted his sisters saw the video he uploaded. He doubted anyone had seen it outside of his classmates. It's not like it was going to go viral or anything.

"We're fine," Lincoln said. He stopped to check his phone. The video - a compilation of his sisters' farting, falling, and failing - was currently at ten likes, and his heart jolted. Oh boy, ten likes! That's ten more than his last one got! Luan was so right about comedy being the way to go. Why did he ever think stunts were still in? LOL. He could be a real boob sometimes. Luckily he had older sisters who knew what was up. "We're more than fine," he said and jammed the phone back into his pocket. "I'm gonna win that trophy for sure."

His heartbeat sped up with sweet anticipation and his stomach felt strange and fluttery like it did when he hung out with Ronnie Anne. He _really _wanted to win. All of his sisters were so talented and had more awards than a North Korean general has medals. Then there was him. The loser. The dweeb. The amazing do-nothing kid with cobwebs in his spot in the family trophy case, a constant visual reminder of his chronic ineptitude. Oh, people said he was great with planning, but sucked at that too; all of his plans blew up in his face, and he always wound up covered in the sticky goo of his own folly like his name was Plankton.

But not this time. Things were coming up Lincoln and nothing bad was going to happen.

They cut across the front lawn, went up the stairs, and opened the door.

All of Lincoln's sisters were there, a group of ten girls of varying sizes and shapes.

But they all had one thing in common.

They looked _mad_.

"They know," Clyde half-said, half-moaned.

Drats.

"You little twerp," Lori hissed through her teeth. The fires of hell blazed in her eyes and her nostrils flared like a dragon preparing to spit flames now and ask questions never. Luan's teeth ground back and forth, Lisa glared behind her Coke bottle glasses, Leni's forehead pinched in an expression that was supposed to look mad but came across cute instead, Lynn's fists shook at her sides, and Lily, in Leni's arms, fixed Lincoln with a withering look that would have killed him if looks could do that sort of thing.

Lincoln opened his mouth, but Lori shot out her hand, snatched him by the front of his shirt, and dragged him across the threshold. His heart jumped into his throat and his book bag fell to the floor. Clyde's eyes widened in horror, and for a moment he looked conflicted, then he turned tail and fled like Lot from the destruction of Sodom. Lincoln squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for a tongue-lashing to end all tongue-lashings.

It didn't come.

"How could you?" Lori asked. He expected her voice to be thunder and lighting, but instead, it was cold November rain: Icy, grim...and hurt. 'How could you literally post that video of us?"

He creaked one eye tentatively open. Her lips were a tight, white slash across her face and her eyes brimmed with betrayal.

"I, like, can't believe you," Leni said.

"I oughta pound you into paste, you little runt," Lynn sneered.

"You are uninvited to my birthday party," Lola said, "forever. You're not even allowed to get me anything, that's how mad I am at you, Lincoln Loud."

Lincoln swallowed thickly. "L-Look, guys, I'm sorry, but Luan told me -"

"I didn't tell you anything," Luan spat.

"You told me to always keep the camera running!" Lincoln cried. "T-That's what I did. You take videos like that all the time." He looked around at his sisters for supplication. "She has stacks and stacks of videos in her closet. Of _all _of us."

Lynn and Lola both shot Luan dirty looks, but she ignored them. "Yeah, and I've never posted any of them. I would _never _do that without permission, Linc. That's one of the greatest unspoken rules of comedy."

"I DIDN'T KNOW!"

Lori unhanded him and he smoothed out the front of his shirt. "I'm sorry," he said, "I just really wanna win this contest. You have no idea - "

He was going to say _how much I want to accomplish something like all of you have_, but Lori cut him off. "Oh, we literally have _all _the idea. You care more about some stupid award than you do about your own family. You made us look stupid. You made me look like I fart."

"You made me look like a clown," Lynn growled.

"You made me look like I'm obsessed with kissing the cold, dead lips of a vampire," Lucy said. Everyone looked at her, and she sighed. "Okay, point taken. Still, you didn't have to put me on blast like that."

Lori turned back to Lincoln, and the vehement disgust written across her face shocked him. "I can't believe you did something like this, Lincoln. I'm literally at a loss for words."

He opened his mouth, but she held up her had, palm facing out, then walked away. "I can't even right now."

The others shook their heads, muttered under their breaths, and followed suit. "Wait," Lincoln said, panic gripping his chest. "Guys, I'm sorry."

"Yeah?" Lynn asked. "So am I."

With that, she punched him as hard as she could in his arm. Hot pain burst over him and he sucked a surprised gasp through his teeth. She cocked her fist back again, and Lincoln threw his hands up to defend himself. She stepped in for the killing blow, then seemed to have second thoughts. She crinkled her nose as if at a foul smell, then turned her back on him. No words had ever been icier than hers were then. "You're not worth it, Lincoln."

She trudged up the stairs, and a moment later, the slamming of her door resounded through the house. Lincoln gaped after her and tried to make sense of what had happened. When Lynn got mad, she pummelled you. End of story. She never walked away like that…

...like you were nothing.

That above all else drove home the severity of his sisters' anger.

He messed up.

He messed up _bad_.

Closing the door behind him, he picked up his book bag and climbed the stairs like a man walking to the execution chamber, his stomach heavy with dread. In his room, he flung the door closed, went over to his bed, and flopped on, arms thrown out on either side in an unintentional parody of Christ on the cross. Images from the video flashed across his mind, and he cringed. Okay, some of that stuff was pretty embarrassing, but it wasn't like it was the end of the world or anything. It wasn't even his fault, it was Luan's. She didn't say _anything _about rules and stuff. If she dd he never would have posted that video. Now everyone was mad at him and he felt guilty.

All he wanted to do was win an award like his sisters. The trophy case in the dining room was filled with symbols of their achievements and then there was a big, yawning hole where his should be. Every time he passed it, his eyes went to the empty spot reserved for him, set aside by his parents in the hopes that one day he would make them just as proud as the girls had. Each day, he failed. He wasn't as talented as they were…

...he wasn't as good.

When the fifth grade video contest came up, he saw the perfect opportunity to break out of his sisters' shadows and finally win something, to prove to them, their parents, and more importantly, himself, that he _wasn't _a loser, that he could be just as good as the girls

His phone buzzed with a text.

Clyde.

_I think we made a huge mistake buddy._

Lincoln said.

_I think your right, _he replied.

Actually, he _knew _was right.

They made a huge. HUGE mistake.

But, hey, it wasn't all that bad. Surely it would blow over soon.

In fact, things would probably be back

Of that he was convinced.

* * *

It didn't.

Lincoln sat at his usual spot with his hands in his lap and stared woefully down into his food. Dark tension filled the air, and drawing breath was hard. Every time he looked up, his sisters ignored him. He asked Lana to pass the peas but she went on eating like she hadn't heard him. Lynn, who sat next to him, made no attempt to steal his roll like she did every night. Lori, in charge of filling everyone's glass with milk, left his empty, and he had to get up and get it himself.

After dinner, Luna collected all the plates and silverware and took them to the kitchen. All the plates and silverware, that is, save for his. Sighing, he sat his fork and cup on his plate and took it to the sink where Lucy washed and Lisa dried. They pointedly stared at their hands, profiles sharp and hard. Tension radiated from them in sickening waves and suddenly Lincoln couldn't take their silence any more. "Here," he said and sat the plate on the counter.

Neither spoke.

Desperation clawed at his chest. "I'm really sorry, okay?'

No reply.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you guys. I just wanted to win."

Lisa looked up and hope filled his chest. Looking at the window over the sink, she said, "Lucy, did you hear something? I'm almost certain I heard the distinct sound of farting, as though someone were defecating from their mouth."

"I didn't hear anything," Lucy said.

Hanging his head in defeat, Lincoln dragged himself away, Later, everyone gathered at the bathroom sink to brush their teeth. Lincoln tried to get through the mass of girls before him, but no one would move. "Can I get to my toothbrush, please?" he asked.

Nothing.

Flashing, he tried to wedge his way between Lynn and Luna. Lynn responded by driving her elbow into his stomach. Pain swelled in his middle and the air exploded from his lungs in a pained wheeze. His knees turned to jelly and he sagged against Leni, who stepped aside and let him fall to the floor.

During all of this, no one spoke, no one even looked at him.

Like he was a pest.

Getting to his hands and knees, he caught his breath, then staggered to his feet and slunk off to his room, where he lay on top of the covers and hugged himself tightly. He wished he never uploaded that dumb video.

Stinging tears welled in his eyes, and eventually, he lapsed into a thin and fitful slumber haunted by wispy, half-remembered nightmares that may have been memories or could have been morbid fancy. In the morning, he rolled out of bed at the sound of the alarm and went into the hall. His sisters all stood in line for the bathroom. None spoke as he joined him. Luan didn't tease him, Lynn didn't give him any affectionate noogies or Indian burns. It was like he wasn't even there.

When his turn came, he started to go in, but Lynn shoved past him and slammed the door behind her. His bladder panged insistently, but he had no choice but to wait. When she came out fifteen minutes later, it was in a cloud of wretched stink.

She didn't even flush the toilet.

Getting undressed, he got into the shower.

There was no hot water.

Downstairs, his sisters sat at the dining room table with bowls of cereal. Luan told a joke and everyone erupted into laughter that died as soon as Lincoln walked in. He went into the kitchen to get a bowl of his own, but all the boxes were empty.

Probably on purpose.

He rooted through the cabinets and finally settled for a stale granola bar he found behind a box of pancake mix. He ate it standing at the counter, alone, then grabbed his backpack and hurried out the front door, needing to be away from this house of dread. He knew he messed up, okay? But did they have to do this to him? He said he was sorry!

All morning it bothered him, and at lunch, he told Clyde everything. When he was done, Clyde hummed thoughtfully. "Well, they're obviously upset."

"You think?" Lincoln asked sarcastically. "They've never given me the silent treatment like _this_. They usually crack and say something or look at me or-or _something_."

Clyde contemplated his tray. "Unfortunately, I think you're just going to have to wait until it blows over."

Yeah, that's exactly what Lincoln was thinking.

They couldn't keep this up _forever, _right?

Things would probably be on their way back to normal this afternoon.

After lunch, dark storm clouds rolled across the May sky and it began to pour rain. Peals of thunder echoed through the world like the voice of God himself and the occasional crack of lightning flashed in the conflagration. At the end of the day, Lincoln got his things from his locker and waited by the front door while everyone else dashed out to their buses or their parents' cars.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Where was Lori?

She wasn't going to leave him, was she?

He texted her.

She didn't respond.

The school was empty and eerily silent now, the only other person in the building a creepy janitor with dirty, matted hair and a dingy cow skull headband. Finally, an hour after he texted Lori, Lincoln ducked his head and went out into the driving rain. In minutes, he was soaked, and by the time he was a block from the school, his shoes and socks were saturated.

He got home fifteen minutes later, cold, wet, and shaking, and tried to open the door.

Locked.

Oh, come on!

He balled his fist and pounded.

No one answered.

"Let me in!" he cried.

Still nothing.

Grumbling under his breath, he went to the window and peered in. His sisters sat at the coffee table in warm lamplight glow and ate takeout pizza from a big, square box. He tapped meekly on the glass, but none of them turned to look at him.

It was like that "Lincoln is bad luck" fiasco all over again.

Sighing dejectedly, he sat with his back against the front door, drew his knees to his chest, and hugged himself for warmth. They finally let him in ten minutes later.

After all the pizza was gone.

* * *

Friday afternoon, Lori picked her sisters up in the van and took them to the mall. She didn't include Lincoln because she was still literally furious at him. Everyone in school had been making fun of her since he uploaded that video. When she passed in the hall, they waved their hands in front of their face or made farting noises, and Carol Pingrey stuffed her locker full of toilet paper. _Just in case you wind up sharting yourself. _Everyone laughed at that, and Lori was so humiliated she could barely stand to show her face. She flashed a big, toothy smile because you never show your tormentors just how much they're getting to you, then she slunk off to the girl's room, where she sat in the far stall against the wall and sobbed into her hands.

The worst part was Bobby started calling her "My sexy little gas bubble" in jest. He was trying to lighten the mood and cheer her up, she got that, but she literally was not in the mood, so when he said it, she slapped him across the face.

In her whole life, all seventeen years of it, she had never been more embarrassed than she was of that video, and just thinking about it made her mad all over again.

The others were pissed off too and who could blame them? Their most intensely private and shameful moments were plastered on a digital billboard for all the world to see and each one of them was getting the same kind of flak she was. When she picked Lisa, Lola, Lana, and Lucy up at the elementary school, a big group of kids was standing around them pointing and laughing. The desolate looks on her sisters' downcast faces pierced Lori's heart and made her even madder at Lincoln for their sake. He didn't understand how major that was.

He wasn't the only one Lori was angry at, though. Luan was the one who told him to film everybody and took video of her own. The other day, Lori held a siblings' meeting in her bedroom (sans Lincoln) and they decided that Luan would no longer take videos of them. They made her take down all her cameras and seized all of the existing video tapes in her closet.

All 228 of them.

"No more," Lori told her and shoved her finger into her face, "if I ever catch you doing it again, I will turn you into a human pretzel. And I am soooo serious. Don't even."

Luan hung her head in contrition and did as she was told. Lori meant what she said, too; she would beat Luan like a red-headed stepchild if she found her recording video of someone. Yes, even Lincoln, because as upset she was at him, _no one _deserved to feel the way she had over the past couple days.

Except for Carol. Carol was a witch.

The mall sat on a vast tract of concrete and strip malls north of town, its facade brick and glass and trimmed with leafy vines. Lori parked in a slot close to the main door and cut the engine. "Alright," she said, "listen up. Stay together. No wandering off. I am not in the mood to chase you down. If you get separated from the group, you're on your own."

That was an empty threat. Of course if one of her siblings went missing she would find them. She wouldn't like it, though.

She glanced at the rearview mirror, and her eyes went to the empty spot usually occupied by Lincoln. A twinge of guilt pinched her chest and she forced her gaze away. Completely ignoring your little brother's existence isn't easy, no matter how mad you are at him, and Lori felt kind of bad for doing it, especially with how down in the dumps he looked lately. But that's part and parcel of discipline. Like...no normal parent enjoys spanking their kids, but they have to learn, right? After this, Lincoln would know just how badly he screwed up and never make the same mistake again.

Throwing open the door, she got out and waited for the others, then they went inside. Sunlight filtered through the overhead dome and dappled the tile floor and warm air hinted with good smells from the food court swirled around them. A stone fountain dominated the lobby, the chug of the water calming and tranquil. People carrying shopping bags from the stores lining the promenade walked back and forth, and a group of teens sat on a bench. As Lori passed, one of them blew a very fart-like raspberry, and she cringed but didn't say anything.

Lana unwrapped a piece of chewing gum and threw it into her mouth. She went over to the trash can and stuck it into a trash can. An old woman nearby gasped. "It's that little girl from the computer. She's trash picking again."

"NO I'M NOT!" Lana screamed. Lola grabbed her by the arm and lead her away. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

A little while later, a couple of middle school boys passed by and twisted their heads around to look at Luna's butt. "No," she sighed, "I'm not wearing the polka dot underwear today."

"Aw, man," one of the boys said.

"Yeah, those were really cool."

He and his friend looked at each other, then erupted into mocking laughter. Luna's brow lowered dangerously, and she turned away and stalked off, her hands balling into fists.

After hitting a few stores, Lori treated everyone to dinner at the food court. She sat across from Leni and stared the half-eaten burger in her hands, her mind far away. She caught a flash of movement in her periphery and turned her head to find Clyde, five feet away, gaping at her with a slack-jawed expression and little metaphorical hearts in his eyes. She sighed and shook her head. He helped Lincoln upload that video in some way, shape, or form, she just knew it. That made him little better than Lincoln and a hot rush of anger colored the back of Lori's neck. Every taunt, every jest, every farting sound came back to her at once, and her chest knotted miserably.

Why?

Why would Lincoln do this to her?

She looked at Clyde again...and her eyes narrowed. "Hey," she said sharply. He shook his head like a man coming awake from a trance, and she was pretty sure she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. "Come here."

He looked around for some means of salvation, but found none and came hesitantly over. "H-Hey, Lori," he stammered.

"Why did you and Lincoln post that video of us?" she asked without preamble.

The others turned to face Clyde, their expressions ranging from wrath to disdain. Clyde swallowed thickly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Spill it, dweeb," Lynn said.

"You have no idea how much crap we've gotten over that video," Lori said. "The last three days have literally been a living hell and I want to know what possessed you and him to do this to us."

Clyde took a deep breath and met her eyes. Normally, when he was around her, he sprang a nosebleed, did the robot, then passed out. Now, however, his gaze was clear and direct and his composure firm. "He really wants to win that contest because he feels like he's not as good as you guys."

Lori missed a beat. "What?"

"You guys all have awards and-and trophies and stuff and he doesn't, and he feels like that makes me less than you. He's been trying to win one for a while but he can't and it has him down. He just…I think it depresses him and...makes him feel really bad about himself." Clyde flicked his eyes to the ground and shuffles his feet. "I think it makes him cry and...you know...maybe suicidal."

Shocked silence fell over the Louds. Lori was vaguely aware of the chattering din of other diners, but it seemed to come from far away. She opened her mouth to say what she didn't know, but no words would form. Depressed? Less than them? _Suicidal? _She tried to process Clyde's words but her mind refused to work.

Did Lincoln really feel like that?

The others were all talking over each other and looking scared, worried, and, in Lucy's case, pale (but Lucy always looked that way). "W-What do you mean suicidal?" Lori asked numbly.

Clyde shrugged by way of reply.

"How?" Lori asked more sharply than she meant.

Taking a deep breath, Clyde said, "He's just always talking about how he's trash and he wishes he was never born. Then...this past week…"

Lori's heart dropped. For a moment, she was locked in place, then, all at once, she sat forward so quickly she nearly gave herself whiplash. "What about this past week?" She was deaf to the rising panic in her voice.

"He's just really upset that you guys are ignoring him and saying he wishes he was never born." Clyde furrowed his brows in thought and looked like he was trying to dredge up a memory. "He said you guys would be a lot better off without him."

"That's not true," Lola gasped.

"Yeah," Lana agreed, "Lincoln helps me all the time."

"Me too," Lucy said.

Lisa started to say something, but Lori was already on her feet and rushing for the door, visions of Lincoln sobbing on his bedroom floor (at best) and bleeding from his wrists (at worst) flashing through her mind. She didn't wait for the others, but they were right behind her, each one thinking the same thing: Lincoln needed them.

Clyde watched them disappear through the double doors leading to the parking lot, then grinned to himself. He didn't make it a habit to lie, especially to Lori, but Lincoln needed a hand, and what better way to help him out than to cook up a few white lies about him being suicidal? Now his sisters were so worried about him killing himself that they forgot all about the video.

"Damn," Clyde muttered appreciatively to himself, "I am _smooth_."

Now if only he could have this much game the next time he approached Lori…

* * *

Lincoln was sitting on the couch and trying to lose himself in an episode of _My Thicc Life _when the front door slammed open and his sisters flooded in.

When he got home half an hour earlier, the house was deserted. He figured Lori took everyone somewhere fun and left him behind and, after moping for a while, he decided to try and make the best of his situation. There wasn't much of a bright side, though. His sisters pretty much hated his guts and there was nothing he could do to make them stop. Clyde said they needed time to get over it, but he was starting to think they never would. He checked the video on his phone. It was in first place and had almost a thousand comments. _What a bunch of weirdos, _one said. Another called Lori "Lady Farts-a-lot." Lincoln sneered at the screen and curled his fingers tight around the plastic casing. _It's all your fault, _he thought.

No, it wasn't.

It was his fault. He got so caught up in trying to win that he hurt the people closest to him. He was a failure. Even if his video won, it cost him so much grief that it wasn't worth it. It caused his family so much grief that it wasn't worth it.

An idea came to him and he swallowed thickly.

For a moment he waffled...then he went into his account and deleted it.

He was just putting his phone away, a mixture of morning and relief churning in the pit of his stomach, when his sisters came in. Before he could register what was happening, he was surrounded, ten girls all clamoring at him like hungry zombies and talking to be heard over one another.

Lori shouldered through the pack, and a look of relief crossed her face. "Thank God you're okay," she said.

Okay?

Why wouldn't he be okay?

"We thought you were dead," Lana and Lola said in unison.

Dead?

He looked uncomprehendingly from one face to the next, and was disturbed by the fear in his sisters' eyes. Lynn was a sickly shade of gray, Luan nervously chewed her lower lip, Lucy looked...actually, she looked normal...and Luna raked her trembling fingers through her hair.

"W-What's wrong?" he asked, starting to get scared. "Why would I be dead? Did something happen?" He pictured an escaped mental patient hacking people up all along Franklin Avenue. Or maybe it was a gas leak. Or a school bus crash.

Getting down on one knee, Lori laid her had on his leg and took a deep breath. A suspenseful moment passed, and inside, Lincoln screamed for her to spit it out, whatever _it _was. "We saw Clyde at the mall."

She paused like she wanted to let that sink in, and Lincoln frowned in confusion. "Okay," he said.

"He told us everything," Lori said. "About how you feel."

Lincoln didn't understand.

"He said you feel like you're garbage, bro," Luna clarified.

"Because you don't have some stupid trophy," Lola added.

Oh.

That.

Heh.

"Well...kind of," Lincoln allowed. He set his gaze to his lap. "You guys are really talented and I'm not. I can't even make Mom and Dad a freaking mug for their anniversary. I try and try to make them proud the way you do, but I can't. I can't win, my plans blow up in my face, and everything I do falls apart." He felt tears beginning to form behind his eyes and blinked them away before they could fall. "I feel like I'm always trying to live up to you guys and I just can't do it. I'm not as good. I wanted to win this award so bad to prove I could, but I hurt you guys in the process so I deleted the video."

Lori and her sisters all looked at each other with shame and culpability, as though they had all played a willing and enthusiastic part in purposely hurting their brother. Which they had not. Lincoln got on their nerves as they got on each other's nerves, but they loved him as much as it is possible to love an only brother, maybe even more so, because every time they needed a helping hand, a sympathetic shoulder, or someone to lean on, he was always there for them. How many times had he helped Lori even though she was a PMSing bitch to him? More than she could count. She appreciated it, she honestly did, but it was easy to lose sight of how great he was.

"I know the damage is done," he sighed to his lap, "but I took it and that's that. I lose. Yet again."

He had always helped them even when he didn't have to, even when he didn't want to, and in that moment, Lori vowed to help him. "Well...what if we help you make a new video?"

"Yeah," Lynn said, "you know what they say. Ten heads are better than one."

Lily, cradled in Leni's arms, shot her a dirty look.

"Eleven heads," Lynn amended.

Lincoln sighed. "No," he said, "I don't deserve help. I deserve to lose."

"No you don't, Linc," Lori said and rubbed a tender circle in his knee, "you're the best brother a group of temperamental buttholes like us could ask for. You deserve to win." She looked at Luan. "Get your camera, I have an idea."

* * *

Lincoln Loud fills the screen. "Hey, guys, it's Lincoln Loud here. Last week, I uploaded a video that I really shouldn't have uploaded." A shadow of contrition crosses his face and he pauses for a silent moment. "I wanted to win really bad because my sisters are all so much more talented than me and I got kind of sick of being eleventh best." He chuckles to show he's somewhat joking. "It's not easy living with the eleven most talented girls in all of Royal Woods. Just look what I have to put up with."

A montage plays.

Lynn running headlong through the backyard. She turns, crouches, and jumps into the air to catch a football. Five feet. Ten. Like a rocket taking off and soaring into space. She catches the ball, lands on her feet, and does a perfect, celebratory backflip.

Next, Lola parades down a plywood stage, the facade of the Loud house visible in the background. Her posture is arrow straight and her steps mincing. A stack of books rests on the top of her head, and as the video rolls, Luna adds three more. Lola turns, walks back to where she started, then turns around and returns to the end of the catwalk. The books never once jostle or wobble. "The secret is to clench your tushy," she says, "you can do anything with a clenched tushy. Even run for president."

The scene cuts to Luna in the garage shredding her guitar while her girlfriend Sam bangs on a drum kit. Lucy stands at a microphone two feet too tall for her and reads from a sheet of paper.

"Pain and darkness are all I see. Ghosts and demons surrounding me. I'm so sad and I don't know why, all I want to do is sit and cry. Okay, that's not true, it's a lie, I just want attention so I mope and sigh."

Jump to Lana bent over the engine block of a random muscle car. Her face is smudged with grease and sweat courses down her face. "I've been working on this bad boy since I was five," she explains. "I rebuilt the engine, did the upholstery, replaced the drive shaft and steering column, and installed a new fuel tank because the last one was cracked. I'm almost done." She cocks a smug grin.

Luan comes in and leans against the rear end. "Hey, guys, are we on?"

Without warning, the car starts to roll forward. Lana fall onto her butt and the car coasts out of the garage and down the sidewalk. "Stop it!" she cries and jumps to her feet. She, Luan, Luna, and Lori run after it, but they're not quick enough; it picks up speed, takes out the mailbox, and gets sideswiped by a garbage truck.

Luan gapes at the mangled wreck, then the camera. "Did I do that?" she asked.

Next is Leni. She sits at her sewing machine with her eyes closed. "I can totes do this in my sleep." Her fingers fly with expert precision and in moments she holds up a sweater with white stitching across the chest. I KAN TOOTS DO THIZ N MY SLEP.

Lisa bustles through her lab, beakers of boiling liquid arranged before her. "It is, in fact,possible to build a nuclear reactor at home," she says, "using, of course, materials available to the average person. I have cobbled together several. In fact…" she goes to her closet and throws it open to reveal a huge metal contraption with dials, knobs, and rubber tubes sprouting from its sides like tentacles. "The Loud house runs on nuclear energy exclusively, which means no utility bills." She put her hands on her hips. "You could say I'm…" her eyes widened. "Dear God."

The camera turns just as one of the vials overflows and corrosive green sludge splatters the table, eating through it like acid. "Not again!"

Luan stands at the head of the living room and tells jokes. Her siblings are arranged across the couch, armchair, and floor, looking bored. Leni's head flops back and she starts to snore.

The scene cuts back to Lincoln, surrounded now by his sisters. "I learned something making this video," he says. "Their best talent isn't football or science or anything like that, it's always being there for me when I need them."

They share a big group hug and Lincoln smiles. "That's what really matters."

Fade to black.

* * *

Three days later, the contest ended, and to Lincoln's shock, he won. The trophy went into the case and now every time he sees it, he's reminded not of his own accomplishment, but of his sisters' love.

And that's waaay better than a trophy anyhow.


End file.
